


to-do list

by elytraheart



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Abandonment, Angst, Betrayal, Explicit Language, Family Dynamics, Friends to Enemies, Hurt No Comfort, Post-War, Sad Ending, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:48:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29759862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elytraheart/pseuds/elytraheart
Summary: After Tommy turns in Techno in favour of L’manberg at the festival, Techno returns home with a heavy heart and stumbles across a diary Tommy left behind. Unable to stop himself, he begins reading.
Relationships: Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 334





	to-do list

**Author's Note:**

> this is a shorter oneshot set on the dream smp the day after doomsday (when techno, phil and dream blew up l’manberg) and only features techno actually being present, but tommy, wilbur, and tubbo are all heavy focuses.
> 
> follow me on twitter @elytraheart for updates and other smp-related content! hope you enjoy this fic :)

Okay, so Tommy had betrayed him, had chosen the government over him. It's not like it mattered. It's not like it hurt him. That day he had gone home simply shrugging it off and preparing for Doomsday, something much more important than some stupid kid.

And then the next day was Doomsday, and it all went perfectly other than when he had to see Tommy and talk to Tommy and ask himself over and over again why Tommy couldn't just listen for once. But other than that, everything went swimmingly, couldn't be better! He returned home on an adrenaline high from their success and fell asleep glowing.

It was the day after that that it finally sank in and started to hurt. Tommy had looked at him, Techno, and then at the government who had only served to hurt him over and over again—and yet he chose the government? It gets in your head, makes you wonder what you did wrong, and Techno couldn't afford that right now. Not while he was on top.

So if you asked him why he spent all his nights staring at Tommy's old to-do list with his back to the wall, he wouldn't tell you. He _couldn't_ tell you. He just knew he couldn't sleep anymore without making a quick stop downstairs first.

The last time he'd come here before the festival had been with Dream. To protect Tommy. He'd claimed each one as his own, even the stupid build-a-girlfriend and the cobblestone towers Dream knew he hated. Now he wished they really were his.

 _Fuck this_. Techno got to his feet with a renewed vigour and reached for the signs on the wall, tearing them down two at a time (or however many he could hold onto at once). If Tommy wasn't going to at least have a little bit of loyalty, why should Techno keep his fucking to-do list? Everything on it was stupid anyways. What kind of fucking revolutionary has “sell foot” on their to-do list? Stupid fucking useless kid. 

And then his back hit the wall again, and he slid down it, feeling no more relieved of his burdens that he had before. Why should he? They were just some signs. He could do whatever he wanted to them, tear them down, cut them up, use them as dartboards or punching bags, but they wouldn't vindicate him. They wouldn't bring Tommy back.

Tommy. His eyes landed on a book not so far from where the signs had fallen, already settling in a patch of dust. How long had it been there? Without even really thinking about it Techno was already reaching for the book, fingers sliding in between the pages.

_Dear diary,_

_Wilbur died yesterday. So I'm writing in this book he got me. He gave it me ages ago, but I never used it before. Diaries are for pussies. But he's dead now so I figured maybe it'd make me feel better._

_I miss Wilbur. He blew up L’manberg, so I probably shouldn't miss him, but I mean that's really Technoblade's fault. He only did it ’cause Techno started setting off fireworks and withers and blowing everyone up. Techno betrayed us, stabbed everybody in the back because we didn't want to share his beliefs, and Wilbur was trying to help. But nobody else will believe me. They don't know Wilbur like I did._

_They're rebuilding L’manberg now, but it's not the same. Even Tubbo agrees, and he's the president. It hasn't been the same ever since Wilbur stepped down. He was the best president there ever was, everybody knows that. Until Schlatt ruined it. And then we beat Schlatt too, and then Techno ruined it. Techno ruined everything._

It cut off abruptly there, but Techno found himself still staring at the pages even though he wasn't really reading them anymore.

This had been written before he and Tommy teamed up, he reasoned with himself. It's not like Tommy still believed that. Except… if he didn't, he wouldn't have betrayed Techno the other day. The words seemed to smirk up at him from the page. _Techno ruined everything_. Did he?

 _Techno betrayed us, stabbed everybody in the back because we didn't want to share his beliefs…_ That wasn't why. That wasn't why he'd done that, at the festival. Did they really think that was why he'd done it? Did they really see him as somebody capable of being that selfish? “I just want to be listened to,” he murmured without meaning to.

He turned the page. There was another entry, slightly messier handwriting now, the ink darker in some places than others. As if the writer had been trembling a little, Techno thought absently. Not that he cared whether or not Tommy had been trembling. Why should he?

_Dear diary,_

_I didn't think I would ever write in this again. I don't want to. Like I said, diaries are for pussies. Except for Wilbur. He wasn't a pussy. But other than that, yeah. Well, except for me, since I'm writing this too._

“Get on with it, Tommy,” Techno muttered, and smiled in spite of himself. The smile vanished as soon as it had come. He couldn't afford to go soft or get attached to anybody, much less one of his now biggest enemies. 

_But Tubbo's going to exile me, and I don't know what to do, and I don't really have anything else to do but write since nobody wants to talk to me. I didn't even do anything that bad. I just took some of George's stuff, the rest of it was an accident—in fact if anybody's at fault here it's Ranboo._

_Tubbo kept promising at the start he wouldn't exile me, he wouldn't cave. But he only said it in private. When other people were around, he seemed so unsure of himself. I told him he was being peer pressured and not to fall for it, that he was the president and not them, but he said it was fine. And then he stopped making those promises, the ones where he said he wouldn't exile me. Now he just kinda changes the subject._

_I don't know what to do. I don't have anybody left. I miss Wilbur. I know we have Ghostbur now, but it's not the same, he's not the same. He's not Wilbur. I don't know who he is. But he's all I have, so I guess I have to accept him. I miss Tubbo. And Techno. The old Techno would never have betrayed his friends._

_Except that's not true either. He killed Tubbo when Schlatt told him to._

_But he hesitated. New Techno wouldn't. Plus, Tubbo betrayed me too. Maybe the past shouldn't matter to me so much. Everybody's betrayed me at some point._

_Except for Wilbur_.

Techno wondered if he were the only person on the server who knew the truth about Wilbur. Who knew Wilbur had always planned to betray them. Who knew they'd been working together against Pogtopia from the start. In fact, Wilbur was the one who suggested it, when Techno came to him with a grin and showed off his new rocket launcher.

But of course Techno always had to take the blame. Like he always had for them, without batting an eyelid or uttering a protest. Nobody even fucking noticed.

 _The old Techno would never have betrayed his friends_. The new Techno didn't either, he wanted to scream. You betrayed me. You betrayed me from the start, even while we were technically still on the same side. You betrayed me by not caring about me, by just using me as a tool like your worst enemies did to you.

He wanted to stop reading. It was affecting him too much, distracting him from his goal. And yet he kept turning the pages with increasingly shaky fingers, as if all he has to do was keep turning and he'd find something, someone, to made everything okay again.

_Dear diary,_

_I was right. Tubbo kept telling me I wasn't, that he didn't know yet, that he was still deciding, but he knew all along. He just didn't have the strength to tell me._

_Well, he did today. I've been exiled._

_I don't have much to do. Dream had supplies covered, and Ghostbur built us a shelter for the night. So, I'm writing again. It's sort of becoming a habit. I wanted to ask if Ghostbur recognised the book, but he seems distracted. I didn't wanna ask._

He rambled on for the rest of the page about Tubbo and how hurt he was by Tubbo's betrayal and how much he missed him and how he wondered if Tubbo missed him too. He doesn't, Techno wanted to yell, but he supposed hindsight was 20/20. 

He flipped through some more of the diary, but each time he saw Tubbo's name he would immediately turn the page, and ended up not getting much reading done at all. His name was popping up less and less as exile dragged on, save for a few words of love and affection when he visited that one time that he really didn't want to have to ever read again. (They were not very loving nor affectionate.)

He noticed Dream's name popping up a lot, but for some reason he felt wrong to read those parts. If Tommy had wanted him to tell him what had happened with Dream in exile, he had had plenty of opportunities to—like that time he had a panic attack at the sight of the control room and Techno had never really known why but it was probably to do with Dream like everything else was. So as the writing got messier and shaker and larger and more frantic and 80% of it became Dream's name, Techno just turned the page.

He knew when he arrived because of the handwriting. It was still unnecessarily big and loud, not unlike Tommy's personality, but the letters were neater and more composed and the ink didn't blot every two seconds _. I saved him_ , he thought for one self-absorbed moment, and then frowned at himself. Why would he think that?

_Dear diary,_

_I'm out, I'm safe, I'm with Techno now. No more stupid fucking Dream. I'm not in exile anymore._

_Techno isn't ideal, but he's all I have. And maybe he isn't that bad, maybe I just have to give him a chance. I mean, he didn't kick me out when I broke into his basement and started living there, so that's a good sign. But still, I feel like I can't trust him._

_Am I being too harsh? I mean, he hasn't done anything wrong yet. But he killed Tubbo, and he betrayed Pogtopia, he blew up L’manberg. He's an arsehole, and now I'm siding with him. What's wrong with me?_

The rest of whatever was written there suddenly got a lot harder to read, letters blurring for seemingly no reason. The way he remembered it, finding Tommy had been the best day he'd had in… quite a while. Finally he wasn't alone, finally he had confirmation that not everybody back home hated him, finally he had a reason to live other than just to keep advancing and gaining more power and defeating more governments.

 _What's wrong with me?_ Techno remembered asking himself that same question on that same day, but for the exact opposite reason. _What's wrong with me?_ he'd asked himself, for the first time acknowledging that yes, he had gone soft for the traumatised kid with the annoying accent and no regard for anyone around him; that yes, he was capable of love. _What's wrong with me?_ Tommy had written, just wanting to know why he was siding with a monster, a man he hated.

Techno closed the book. He didn't want to read more and more pages of Tommy's disguised hatred for him, Tommy's questions to himself about why he was still with Techno, and Tommy's plans to betray him for Tubbo, which, as Techno now realised, obviously must've been premeditated. 

How had he fallen into a sixteen year old's trap? 

Stashing the book into his pocket never to be perused again, Techno began writing a message of his own. One for Tommy. _I have your diary. If you want it, come home._


End file.
